by Xenia Melzer
Meanwhile Hulda, Aegid, and Kalad had approached the women. The assassin grabbed the reins of the horses and made soothing noises until they calmed down. Then her lavender eyes regarded the prey at her feet. The look on her face sent shivers down the backs of all the men present.
“The wolves say they reek of Daran.” Canubis’s voice was almost casual now.
As soon as they heard those words, Kalad and Aegid yanked the women up. Violently they tore off the cloaks and froze. Both women were clad in white silk, silk that was drenched in blood. The wolves started howling again.
“It’s Daran’s blood.” Canubis no longer sounded casual.
Without hesitation, the desert brothers put their hands on the throats of the sisters. Renaldo held them back.
“Wait! We still don’t know where Daran is. And you can’t want them to have an easy death, do you?”
When the two warriors stood down hesitantly, the women started to guffaw.
“Your precious little Daran is dog food since this morning. We played the entire night with him, and when his screams ceased to be sweet in our ears, we ripped his twitching heart from his chest.”
A sound like a wail, suffocated by heaving, pierced the air. Aegid had his arms slung around Kalad, who was staring at the women with hatred and despair. Casto noticed the quick glance the elder female gave the horses. One of the saddlebags was darker than the others, as if it had gotten wet. Heart pounding in his chest, the king slowly approached the palfreys and opened the leather carefully. It was impossible for him not to scream, even though he was used to gory sights. Wrapped inexpertly in a silken cloth, a human heart, still heavy with blood, rested inside the bag.
Trembling with rage, Casto stared at the two culprits. He could feel Renaldo’s fire blazing inside him.
Before he could unleash the deadly flames, Aegid had rushed to his side. With shaking hands he took the bloody lump, his milky eyes staring at it as if he couldn’t understand what he was seeing. And then Casto felt the first, almost gentle pinpricks on his skin that heralded the sand. He shuddered when he remembered the sheer, raw force the desert brothers could call. The shock made him see reason again.
“Don’t, Aegid! We need them alive! They know where we can find Daran.”
The warrior glared at him through hazy eyes. He seemed to have trouble returning to the real world. Casto grabbed his wrists to anchor him, his voice urgent.
“We have to let them live—for the time being. As soon as we’ve got Daran back, you can do to them whatever you wish. But your lover has first priority.”
Aegid’s eyes narrowed. “You’re right.” He turned his attention to the women. “Where is he?”
The younger one spat on the ground. “We’ll never tell. It’s only just that you taste the same suffering as we did.”
Kalad, who had finally managed to get over his shock, appeared next to his brother with hardened features. Just when he seemed about to start threatening the females, Hulda interrupted them with her melodic voice.
“You don’t have to. It’s child’s play for the wolves to follow your track backward. I doubt you took the same precautions as Daran’s kidnapper.”
An affirmative howling pierced the air. The predators were running up and down, eager to follow this new, crystal-clear trail.
Derision colored the mother superior’s face. “Amateurs.”
Canubis had already turned Demon around in order to follow the wolves.
“Wolfstan, you take care of these two until we come back. Don’t let them escape or die! I want to deal with them personally. Hulda, watch our back. I don’t want any more nasty surprises!”
The armorer nodded grimly. Without heeding the wails of protest from his unwilling prisoners, he tied their wrists to their ankles, blocking any attempt at escape.
Hulda showed her consent with a nod. Her elegant hands brushed the grips of her daggers lovingly, and then she vanished.
Casto had to concentrate to not show his discomfort. Witnessing a highly skilled assassin like Hulda evaporating into thin air made his sense of self-preservation go into overload. Under his breath, he couldn’t help but express his uneasiness. “That is so unnerving.”
Wolfstan smiled proudly at the king. He was oblivious of the danger his beloved wife posed. “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”
The armorer sounded so happy, Casto didn’t have the heart to answer him truthfully. Instead he returned the smile somewhat awkwardly before he followed the Wolf of War, Renaldo, and the desert brothers.
Now that the trail was clear, the wolves ran with their usual speed across the sun-dried paths. After less than two hours, they found an impressive homestead situated in a depression that was guarded from the curious glances of unexpected travelers by a thicket of mighty oak trees. Only a narrow, unobtrusive track wound down through the trees. In a small clearing not far from the homestead, the mercenaries discussed how to proceed.
“I know places like that one. It’s a brothel, and an exclusive one, if I’m not mistaken.” Kalad sounded so grim, none of the other men dared to tease him about his knowledge.
“Seems like the owners are selling more than just pleasures of the flesh at the moment.” Aegid’s voice was darkened by fury.
Before he could vent on, Casto barged in.
“I say we get a feel for the situation first. To me, this looks like a place where one can encounter some unpleasant surprises. I’ll act as a customer and try to find Daran.”
Renaldo shook his head violently. “I don’t think so, Casto. It’s way too dangerous.”
The king opened his mouth to give a sharp retort, but Canubis was faster.
“I’m really sorry to say this, little brother, but Casto will go. His suggestion is reasonable, and he’s the only one who can do it. Aegid and Kalad are definitely too agitated, and we are too well-known. Our first priority is to get Daran out safely.”
The Angel of Death made a face. He hated exposing his lover to such a dangerous situation, but Canubis was right. Casto was perfectly suited for this mission.
“Promise me not to take any undue risks. No, promise me not to take any risks at all! You get in, gather the information, and get out again, understood?”
Casto rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement. “Whatever you wish, Barbarian.” An impish grin appeared on his lips. “If something goes wrong, Lys will let you know. Then you can do your thing.”
Renaldo hit the king’s upper arm with more force than strictly necessary. “Get a grip on yourself. This is about Daran, not your ego!”
Instantly Casto turned serious again. His mesmerizing blue eyes caught Aegid’s and Kalad’s stare.
“I’ll bring him back! That’s a promise!”
The desert warriors bowed gratefully to the heart of their god. With easy practice, Casto wrapped part of his coat around his head to hide his wheat-blond hair and part of his face. Then he jumped into the saddle and rode toward the brothel.
WHILE LYS approached the building slowly, Casto checked his surroundings with the eyes of both a warrior and a businessman. The place was so secluded, it had to be really exclusive to be able to stay in business. Everything was very clean, starting with the perfectly raked gravel on the ground over by the neat stables with the spacious bays and broad shed where the customers could leave their carriages, and including the entrance area, which was lined with potted plants and elaborate statues. The warrior noticed the small windows built high in the walls, making it impossible for attackers to get through and at the same time allowing for an effective defense. Thick walls of neatly set stones and heavy wooden doors reinforced with steel amplified the fortress feeling. Anybody who tried to get in uninvited—or out illicitly, for that matter—was faced with serious trouble. And even though the path down into the depression wound through the trees, it was perfectly visible from the building. There was no way to get there unnoticed.
As if on cue, the gate was opened for him and Lys, and a sturdy man with the calculat
ing look of a true pimp greeted him. Fortunately Casto knew how to deal with this type of person.
“Let me welcome you to our humble establishment, my lord. My name is Druran. I’m one of the owners here. It seems I haven’t had the pleasure of making your acquaintance yet.”
Though he spoke very formally, the man’s eyes were already assessing Casto. They had noticed the sword and daggers as well as the heavy bag hanging on his belt. No doubt he had already classified his guest as potentially dangerous and wealthy at the same time. For a man of his profession, this was the worst combination. It meant Casto would want his money’s worth and could cause Druran serious trouble should he not deliver. With customers like that, it was best to stay on the polite side.
“My acquaintance is not something you need to make. I’m the man with the big bag of gold who wants to have some intense fun with your best piece of merchandise. But I have to warn you, I like playing rough.”
If Druran was affected by Casto’s brisk tone, he didn’t show it at all.
“Is that so? Then I’m glad to say we have just what you need. A rare delicacy you’ll surely enjoy. Needless to mention, we do charge extra for serious damage to our merchandise. But a man as well-off as you are can surely afford such insignificant sums.”
Casto had dismounted Lys, who now towered over him like a living death threat. Druran eyed the stallion nervously.
“I don’t care about the price as long as I can have my fun. And before you ask, my ride doesn’t need caring for. He loves his freedom.”
The pimp hastened to reassure his intimidating guest. “Of course. As long as you say he’s safe to roam around, we surely won’t be adamant about having him inside a bay.”
Lys flattened his ears and bared his teeth, reveling in the fear the abhorrent human was displaying so openly. Casto patted the black hide in an absent way before he concentrated on his reluctant host again.
“So what are you waiting for? Show me this delicacy you’re so proud of. Once I’ve seen it, I’ll decide whether it’s worth my time and money.”
Pure anger about being treated like a mere servant threatened to conquer Druran’s face, but he managed to rein himself in, thinking about the money the rude customer would pay once he laid eyes on their golden goose. Bowing demurely, he led the warrior into the house, carefully closing the door behind him.
IN HIS prison, Daran was listening intently to the sounds seeping through the thick oak doors. He had managed to free himself of the chains by dislocating both of his thumbs. Thanks to this painful trick, he had been able to wiggle his hands out of the cuffs. Now he was waiting for the injury to heal. He didn’t know how many people were in the house aside from his three torturers, but he was sure he would be able to deal with them as long as he had the element of surprise working for him. For that, his thumbs had to heal first.
Now he heard voices down the corridor and couldn’t suppress a curse. One of them belonged to Elgir, which could only mean new customers were on their way. Daran had no inclination to get tortured to death a third time, so he grabbed two knives from the wall and hurried to sit down again as if he was still bound.
Tense like a cat before it went for the mouse, Daran was waiting for the door to open. Elgir entered, presenting Daran with a pompous gesture. The customer who stepped in behind the pimp fixed his mesmerizing gaze on the thief.
“That’s supposed to be your best merchandise? Do you take me for a fool?”
Daran, who had been ready to strike and kill Elgir, froze. Never before in his life had he been happier to hear the arrogant, derisive voice of his trainer. He couldn’t help but grin.
“Yes, I really am their best merchandise. I guess it only shows how low-class they are. This one is a coward, deceiver, and beguiler. It’s built in his character, so no curing him.”
Elgir screamed with rage. “How dare you talk to me like that, you worthless piece of shit?”
He approached Daran with raised fists, ready to strike. The thief watched from the corner of his eye as Casto closed and bolted the heavy door with calm movements. It was all the invitation he needed. Quickly he ducked out of his torturer’s reach, hitting him with the hilt of one of the knives. Groaning, the sturdy man went down. Daran was just about to send him to the Mothers when Casto stopped him.
“If I were you, I’d let him live. I know two very worked-up desert warriors who’d love to have a word with this scum.”
The knife fell from Daran’s hand, and his heart started beating unbearably loud in his chest. “They’re here?”
“Of course! What do you think? They are so out of their minds with worry, they haven’t slept a wink ever since Lukan told us about the ambush.”
Daran felt pure love surging through him. They had come! He was so happy, tears pricked the corners of his eyes. Then he remembered what Drik and Druran had done to him. His hands fumbled down to his penis. The tip was pierced by an iron ring the two pimps had driven into his flesh in place of branding. Never should his owners lay eyes on the offending piece of metal! Daran gritted his teeth, grabbed the ring, and tore it off with all his might.
Casto rushed over, his eyes wide with horror.
“Daran, what in the Mothers’ names are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”
“They cannot see this, Casto! Under no circumstances!”
The king threw a revolted glance at the bloodstained ring, which had no lock but was welded closed. It was easy to understand why Daran had wanted to get rid of it before his lovers could see it.
“They won’t, I promise. And I’m sure we’ll find a way to explain all the blood on your body. Or do you see any water around here?”
“I’ll think about that once we’re out. Can you lend me your coat?”
“Of course.”
With a mocking bow, the king handed his friend the piece of cloth. Then he returned to his post at the door, listening to the sounds from outside. Daran thought he could hear a muffled scream and the creak of a door being ripped off the hinges. Casto looked satisfied.
“They’re already here. It shouldn’t be long until they get us out.”
“Since when do you wait until you get rescued by others?” The question slipped from Daran’s lips before he could hold himself back. It was simply unnatural for the usually bold king to barricade himself.
Casto made a face while he answered in sour tones. It was obvious how much he resented having his hands tied. Nevertheless, ever since the incident in Kwarl, he had become more levelheaded in his actions. Although he hated it, he deferred to his husband’s experience.
“I had to promise, otherwise the Barbarian wouldn’t have let me go. And I didn’t know in what state you’d be. The plan was to infiltrate the place, find you, and wait for the others to get us.”
“I like the plan. But why is it taking so long?”
Casto’s features hardened. Now he truly looked like a merciless king, although Daran wasn’t sure whether Casto was really so coldhearted or if he was trying to protect himself.
“They’re taking prisoners. Not only are your lovers enraged, the Wolf of War is furious and the Barbarian….” Casto stopped. He had thought he knew the Angel of Death, but the raging fury Renaldo had been emanating ever since it had become clear what hardships Daran had had to endure made even the king uneasy. In moments like these, the perfect mask crumbled and the unrelenting god of war showed his terrible visage.
“I just hope the Barbarian never gets that angry with me.”
Daran refrained from answering. He knew from personal, painful experience how terrifying the Angel of Death could be, and if even Casto, who wasn’t easily impressed by Renaldo’s whims, was as meek as he was now, the thief did not feel any desire to meet his god.
The sounds of fighting drew nearer, pained screams and heartfelt curses accompanying the heavy thudding when a body went down or another door was unhinged. Then the heavy oak door trembled under the blows of the attackers. Casto made some room, his sword at the r
eady, just in case it wasn’t their side trying to get in.
Splinters hissed through the air like angry hornets when Aegid and Kalad finally barged their way in. Their hungry gazes settled on Daran, who ran toward them with a small cry of relief. Casto discreetly busied himself with checking the ties on the still unconscious Elgir while the desert brothers held the love of their lives tightly in their embrace.
4. DIVINE WRATH
SATISFIED WITH the outcome of their mission, the Wolf of War regarded the prisoners they had taken. Aside from the two owners of the brothel and the man who had kidnapped Daran, who were already tied together so they could bring them back to the Valley, all the customers as well as the whores—male and female—had been lined up in front of him like oxen on the market. Now Canubis was contemplating whether he should show some mercy toward the innocent bystanders or if he should punish them all just to get his point across.
A sound at his back made him turn. Daran was standing in front of him, his gaze cast to the ground. He had finally managed to escape the embrace of his masters and had come to confront his god’s wrath. Slowly, he went down on his knees. The movement made Casto’s cloak gape open and allowed the Wolf of War a glimpse of Daran’s naked, blood-smeared body.
“My Lord Canubis.”
“Daran. I’m glad we finally found you.” Canubis spoke in gentle tones, since he knew the expression in the thief’s eyes only too well. The young man was blaming himself over what had happened. Those reproaches were superfluous, of course, but a good leader had to take them seriously if he wanted a promising warrior to develop further.
When he heard the soothing words, Daran’s head reared up. It was agonizing to watch the torment in his eyes.
